She wouldn’t let him have her, so he took everything from her. Her husband. Her child. Her happiness.
I’m in awe of her after having met her. Of her resilience. You see the pain in the lines around her eyes, but she’s not bitter. She’s looking forward. She’s spent her life serving her pack. And she’s found happiness again.
Beyond all his paintings, some of which were landscapes and some of which were abstract and manic looking, are paintings I’ve done.
I’ve found the one of the sprite. She has yellow hair and she’s very small and as I painted it as a child there’s not enough detail for me to know if it’s a premonition of Ivy, but I think it is.
She’s smiling and happy and she’s floating over my pup wolf form beside a small blue butterfly that sits on my nose. I don’t know why I drew that butterfly like that.
After going through all the paintings, many of which include me playing with six other pups, I leave them against the walls, then walk out of there with my head down, feeling sick about Cornelius.
Those six shifters felt my absence and clearly I felt theirs, too, even if I didn’t know how to name it other than drawing about it.
I crawl back into bed with her and pull her warm and soft body close. Just the scent of her brings me comfort. This is calm and comfort I never thought I’d have. I didn’t know I was missing it. Now that I have it, I know I won’t ever give it up. Not for anything. And I won’t ever let her be taken from me the way my father was taken from my mother. No one can hurt Ivy the way Catrina Savage has been hurt. I won’t let it happen.
Despite feeling the comfort of my mate, I clench my teeth until I fall asleep.
35
Ivy
Three Days Later…
It’s Friday morning, and we’re driving to town. I have my arms crossed and I’m pouting. He’s acting like he’s ignoring it, like he seems to do when I don’t like something, but I know he knows I’m pouting.
What’s the problem? Well, for starters he wouldn’t let me go shopping by myself for a dress for the strawberry moon party.
Clearly, he thinks I’ll take off on him. He’s not saying that, but I know it’s what he thinks.
And second, he’s not giving me my car keys.
He also informed me this morning that after we’re done dress-shopping, we’re going to a furniture store and I should pick out a new bed and new furniture.
And then he wants me to tell him what else we need. He’s talking about painting the place, too. He’s trying to make it clear that I’m here to stay. He’s never asked me to stay, he’s only told me. And that’s annoying as heck.
“What about what Riley said? About the house you have in Arcana Falls?” I asked.
“We have,” he corrected.
I didn’t reply and he got fidgety. And then he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter and tried to have sex with me.
“We need to go out.” I tried to make him stop. His mouth was making its way down my throat into the opening of my shirt. “Tyson! Stop.”
“We can go soon,” he said against my skin and then he purred against that spot on my throat.
My hands landed on his shoulders and instead of pushing him, like I planned to, I wound up with my head rolled back and my hands in his hair while he nibbled, licked, and scraped his delicious stubble along my skin, pulling me tight against his body so that my legs were around him. I was a bit too high to be pelvis to pelvis, so he carried me to the couch and kept me straddling him as his hand lowered, about to free himself from his jeans.
“Wait. Before you get carried away, there, I have to buy a dress and shoes and accessories and–”
“And we need time to go to the furniture store. I know. They’re close to each other. It’s fine.”
“I may need more than one store before I find a dress I like, so…”
He froze and stared at me.
I continued. “It may take five or ten stores and trying on half a dozen dresses in each of those places before I find something I like.”
He frowned at me and his mouth went tight.
“This is why we should’ve gone yesterday instead of spending the afternoon in bed.” I poked him in the chest.
He smiled. “It was a very nice afternoon in bed.”
It was.
It’s been a great couple days living in this little bubble…this little werewolf sex bubble. For real. I truly don’t know how my vagina hasn’t just fallen off. My inner thighs are a little sore, though, almost like I’ve been horseback riding. A girl could give up her gym membership with a guy like this who’d undoubtedly keep her physically fit, that was for damn sure.